


On duty with Daddy

by JaqofSpades



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Bingo card 9, Daddy Kink, Internet porn, Kink Your Revolution, M/M, wail away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6415102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life's tough when you're locked away at military school and your only distractions are Call of Duty and Internet porn.  Until a new distraction comes along, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On duty with Daddy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hayj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/gifts).



> Very quick and dirty, so likely to be riddled with mistakes. My first fill for Kink Your Revolution; from Bingo Card 9: Jason, Internet porn, wail away as my go wild choice, Daddy kink, and Miles. (And that'd be my first bingo please and thank you.) One of a passel of little birthday presents for my lovely enabler, hayjbsg.

 

Jason had never been much of an indoors kid, but he’s gotten in with this group of crack players on  Call of Duty and it doesn’t feel anything like all the other boring computer shit, or lame military shit.  The General and his cohort actually make the combat game fun, and thanks to them, he just might make it out of this shitty-ass military school with something approaching a passing grade.

Which reminds him – he was due to chat with the General on light weaponry during the Vietnam War, and for some reason, his stomach has gone all squirrelly.  He needs to jack off a bit, wail away and get rid of some the tension he’s carrying so he can concentrate on what his mentor is trying to tell him.

Porn.  He needs some good porn.

He flicks through image after image, the lesbians sprawled out on a giant bed, eating each other out in a delicious-looking chain; the girl with the schoolgirl skirt flicked up over her ass so you can see the juices running down her leg as she sucks the guy off.  A woman and her boyfriend dutifully taking turns to suck the cock of a man you can’t see.

Jason pushes away from the computer to flick the lock on his bedroom door and pulls up the good stuff.  A cut young guy jackhammering his way into to a girlish boy’s ass.  Two men locked together in a sixty-nine.  Suddenly, he’s thinking about the General’s whiskey-soaked voice, and his slash and burn approach to the game.  Fuck.   He’s close – so fucking close -  when the messenger icon lights up.

Maybe he doesn’t think.   Maybe, he’ll allow later, he wanted the older man to see him blow his wad all over his hand, then bring his fingers to his mouth and lick up the gooey mess.

“What the fuck, soldier?”

“Uh, what sir? Sorry sir?”

“You’re jerking off.”

“Jesus, you can see that?  How  - oh fuck.  My webcam. I’m so sorry …”

“Too fucking late for that.   Strangle the little bitch.”

“What?”

“You heard me.  You’re what? 18?  Stroke it ‘til you’re hard again.”

He stares at the screen in disbelief, but his hand is already moving, tickling at his balls and grasping himself tight, eyes fixed on the bland, non-customised icon where he desperately needs a real live picture to be.

“Sir? Is this okay?”

“Passable, soldier.  Got a real pretty cock, I’ll give you that.”

“Are you –“

“Fucking A.  Gonna come all over your pretty boy band face.”

“Please sir, I need …”

“What, boy?”

“Need to see you.”

“Don’t know about that.  What you willing to do for it?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he promises.  His cock is sore with overstimulation, but he won’t let it happen yet.  He’s gonna go out of his fucking mind, but he needs to see …

“Call me Daddy.”

“What?”

“You heard me.  Tell me you’re a bad boy, and you want the big stick.”

“Yes sir, please sir.  The big stick, right up my ass.”

“Stick your big cock up my ass, _Daddy_.”

Visions of his own father flash through his head, but Jason chases them away by reaching for the lube he keeps in his desk drawers.  _Actually wish you could see me, you stinking homophobe._  His slippery fingers feel like chilly heaven against asshole, sliding around the rim and pressing, sliding and pressing, his breath getting shorter with every circuit.  He’s wants to push them right in, wants to fuck himself silly, but he’ll come straight away if he does that, and there’s something else he wants first.  So he waits until the breathing on the other end of the connection starts to get rough.

“Please let me see your face as I come, Daddy.  Wanna know who’s teaching me a lesson,” he pants.

The screen flickers and suddenly the small box is vivid with a dark, saturnine face.  Jason immediately pegs him as ex-military – something about those black hellhound eyes – but he’s not a weekend warrior hanging out in camo and pretending he’s on furlough between tours.  This guy – the General – wears his hair long and messy, and the tattoos on his biceps peep out from between the rips on an old t-shirt for some band Jason has never heard of.  With a week’s worth of beard and a general air of dissipation – the General is brutally hot, Jason realises with a wail.

His cock slaps helplessly against his belly as he plunges two fingers deep into his butt, chasing the  deep, bonewracking pleasure.

“Yeah, bitch, fuck yourself for me.  Wanna stick my cock down your throat, twink.  Choke you with it.”

He could, too.  Dude is hung like a horse, not as thick as him but way longer.  Jason moans at the thought of sucking him, licking off those beads of precum and reaching around and fucking him with the fingers of his other hand, not even game to get off his knees until Daddy tells him so …

“Can I come? Please Daddy?  I need to come.”

“Yeah, kid.  Do it.  Fuck yourself for me.  Come for Daddy. Come all over the fucking screen.”

He does, too.  Licks it off the screen to a constant commentary of how fucking undignified it is and how he’s got a lesson or two to learn. 

“So teach me,” he smirks into the camera, and they seem to be the magic words because the General is suddenly bucking like a horse, staring right down the lens of the camera even as he fills his fist with thick gouts of cum.

They sign off not long after that, old dudes need sleep, apparently, so he doesn’t see the final message until morning.

_10.30pm Friday.  The Grand Hotel.  If you’re up for it._

His reply is a joke, he promises himself.  Even if it does make his poor, exhausted cock twitch.  Still a joke.

_Only if you promise to spank me, Daddy._

And then the image of the General standing over him, threatening him, teaching him to behave sinks into his hindbrain and riots.  There’s nothing for it.

He’s gonna have to jerk off again.


End file.
